Days of Wands and Roses
by Gabi-hime
Summary: The year is 1971 and Severus Snape is just staring his first year at Hogwarts. Lily Potter is starting her first year as well. Can they both survive hyperkinetic Ravenclaws, clinging Hufflepuffs, and the newly formed Marauders?
1. The Rain in Spain Falls Mainly on the Sn...

Days of Wands and Roses

  


Chapter 01 – The Rain in Spain Falls Mainly on the Snape

  


By Gabi (pinkfluffynet@yahoo.com)

  


Rain is often a pleasant and comforting phenomenon, especially for a child who spends most of his time moping and mooning and in a general funk feeling sorry for himself and his horrible lot in life. However, no matter how melodramatic a boy is, rain somehow loses its charm when one is slogging down a cobblestone street in it without even a rain-be-gone covering charm to keep one dry.

  


Not that he needed it, his Aunt Pincilla was quick to chuckle in that vacant way of hers. His hair was as slick as a duck's back anyway. It could turn water on its own. Or at least, that's what she claimed. Severus was of an entirely different opinion and he had empirical evidence to back his opinion up – namely the water that was currently dripping down the back of his oversized dark blue robes.

  


My hadn't his aunt chosen a wonderful day to go shopping for his school supplies. The rain was so heavy that they could barely see a foot in front of them but Severus knew it was useless to ask his aunt to cast a heighten senses spell. She was what she called a "magical economist" which he had now clearly defined as being a person who refused to use even the simplest charms to make life easier because she labored under the delusion that by conserving magical power she was somehow doing a good deed. This was all rubbish in his opinion. He'd read a large number of magical theory books for a boy of eleven years of age and he'd never run across any call for conservation of magical energies among magical folk, even in the more ludicrous of the books his aunt kept in the house. Severus had long ago glumly assured himself that his aunt was entirely and completely off her rocker.

  


Which is probably why she had decided that today was as good a day as any to come spitting out of a floo fire in the fine establishment of Flourish and Blotts and collect what she had vaguely termed Severus's "school bits." She was keeping his supply list concealed somewhere on her person and had been ever since he'd ceremoniously slit open the thick parchment letter that had contained his acceptance letter to Hogwarts. He'd managed only a glimpse of the list before she'd swept it away for "safe keeping" claiming he'd lose it if she let him take care of it. Of course, it was in dubious hands at this point. He'd had to remind his flighty aunt to bring it with her no less than three times this very morning, since she'd whisked herself into four different sets of robes before she finally settled on a fifth one as being suitable. Like always she asked if the robe made her posterior look big and like always he responded drily that there was little that would not make it look big. She ignored his comment, as she always did. There were times when Severus thought that half the time she asked him something she didn't really expect an answer or listen for one, but was rather just pleasing herself because she really seemed to enjoy hearing herself talk. It was due to her complete lack of attention that he could manage such acidic and perfectly outrageous comments directly to her face.

  


Oh for someone to share polite conversation with. Well, scratch that, he wasn't _really_ interested in polite conversation, no matter how much he might claim from time to time. He seriously doubted that he'd ever meet anyone who could keep up with him on the myriad of topics he was so well-versed in. As one might expect of a boy who'd grown up with no children his own age and only a batty old aunt, a venomous cat, and a library full of battered books to keep him company, Severus had long ago turned himself into his own misanthropic cheering section. He was quite sure that he would be the cleverest student that Hogwarts had ever had. Not that anyone would notice, of course. No one ever noticed how absolutely brilliant he was. That was why it was so important that he remind himself of it every few minutes by snappish comments at Pincilla's expense.

  


It didn't really matter. She never noticed, on any account. Severus doubted she was even aware of the fact that the English Channel itself seemed to be pouring out of the sky on top of them. She just marched resolutely down the street as if it were the most pleasant spring day and she were on her way to a picnic. As they passed in front of Gringott's Severus desperately hoped that wherever they were going next on this moronic oddesy it was close by. He knew for a fact that they weren't bound for the wizarding bank. Pincilla had some peculiar dislike of the establishment and kept what remained of the family money buried in a secret place somewhere on the grounds of their home. It was just another case where Severus felt the need to roll his eyes darkly and sigh heavily at his fate.

  


Apparently, the heavens had decided to smile upon him, because instead of being forced to slog what may well be a good half mile down the wizarding thoroughfare Pincilla moved almost immediately to cross the street, dragging Severus with her to the blessedly dry-spelled overhang of a shop that Severus had never been near before. He took a moment to shake the water from his hair, if only to provide direct evidence that it was not so slick that it turned water. His aunt apparently didn't notice that her previous assessment had just been soundly proven completely incorrect. Somehow he was not surprised.

  


He sullenly crossed his arms and turned to look at the hanging signboard which was also apparently bewitched with a water repelling spell. Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions? Well that certainly explained why he'd never been here. Pincilla never bought new robes, or at least she hadn't bought any new ones in the six years since Severus had been living with her, which explained why she was now wearing the horrible striped monstrosity she currently sported. As far as he knew she only had five sets of robes – the last and crowning glory of her collection being the set she was currently wearing, glittering Technicolor fringe and all.

  


The robes he was currently wearing were originally from some musty old trunk in the attic and they sized up whenever he grew. Unfortunately the spell on the robes was as worn as they were themselves and it no longer functioned perfectly, which is why he had to hitch up his robes to run. Well at least now he could get some decent clothing. Blue was certainly not his color, no matter how dark and mysterious that blue was. He needed black, or at the very best a dark, dark green. That would make him look best, he was sure. The blue only made his skin look positively green instead of its usual sallow candle wax color.

  


After making absolutely no attempts to wring herself out before going into the shop, Pincilla strode imperiously in and proceeded to drip all over the thick plush rug in the entry way. Severus was used to being embarrassed by his aunt and came in the door quietly behind her and edged off, attempting to stand a fair enough distance away so that the other people in the shop wouldn't automatically assume they were together, or at least wouldn't automatically assume that they were together by his choice.

  


A squat witch dressed sensibly in what he found to be a disgusting shade of mauve raised one eyebrow at the two newly arrived customers and put on what seemed to him to be a very forced smile. Oh just bloody wonderful. Pincilla had done it again. Why did everything in his life have to be so difficult?

  


The witch in mauve flounced over to them gracefully, despite her bulk and took another searching look at Pincilla before catching sight of Severus behind her. She seemed relieved. Severus didn't blame her. He couldn't imagine helping his aunt pick out a robe, especially if she had her heart set on another travesty like the one she was currently wearing.

  


"Ah, another one for Hogwarts?" she asked the two of them pleasantly, "First year is it?"

  


He nodded silently, folding his arms over one another so that his robe nearly swallowed him in navy folds. He was currently cultivating the stoic and darkly mysterious image and he wasn't about to endanger it by opening his mouth and chance his voice to betray him with a cracking warble. Unfortunately for Severus Snape his voice had taken it upon itself to change early, thus giving him no chance to establish himself in a proper manner among the students of Hogwarts. His only recourse, in his opinion, was to simply keep relatively silent until his voice settled down (no matter how long the blasted thing took) lest he risk sounding absolutely ridiculous.

  


Fortunately (or unfortunately, as the case may be) Pincilla took it upon herself to do all the talking in the situation, thus sparing Severus the horror of actually speaking in public.

  


"Oh yes. He simply has to have new robes. The supply list states that he has to have three sets of plain black work robes but I think that's criminal," here she leaned over to the plump witch and spoke confidentially, although her voice was still pitched so that the entire room could hear, "I personally wish that I could get something more light and cheery for Severus. Black is going to make him look positively ghastly. He already looks undead half the time. If I weren't used to him by now I would have cast a banish zombies spell on him a half a dozen times already. It's quite unsettling when I see him prowling around the house."

  


Severus was sure that the chubby witch would look positively pained by Pincilla's sudden confidence in her did she not hope to get at least a reasonable commission from the sale of a full priced set of student work robes. Once again, he was not all that surprised. Pincilla was in a habit of sharing random tidbits with the odd passerby, much to the chagrin of those self-same passersby.

  


"Which reminds me," his aunt said, putting one hand on her hip and another under her chin thoughtfully, "His prowling does distress me, always sneaking about. Do you think we could have some bells sewn into his robes so I could always know when he was out and about?"

  


Severus turned the sickly pale color of anemic plaster. Oh that was just what he needed to make a good impression on the other students. Jingle bells would certainly complement the image he was going for. Silently he desperately hoped that heaven would somehow intervene and spare him from ringing and jangling about the stone halls of Hogwarts all year.

  


Thankfully, apparently heaven decided to intervene because the plump witch shook her head crisply, "No, I'm afraid not, if they're to be school work robes. Hogwarts is very strict about the robes they allow their students to wear. Flat black and simple with either a golden clasp at the throat or a silver one. They're spelled so that when the student is sorted into a house the robes will automatically embroider themselves in the proper colors."

  


He breathed a silent sigh of relief. That at least was a tender mercy. But alas, the witch continued:

  


"However, if you do want a dress robe or a casual robe for him to wear at home hemmed and trimmed in bells, I'm sure that can be arranged."

  


Blasted woman. She was just trying to enlarge her commission at his expense. Thankfully his aunt was a galleon economist as well as being a magic economist and she shook her head at the prospect of buying him more than three robes. 

  


The clerk nodded crisply, "Then just three sets of black work robes?"

  


Pincilla seemed consider for a moment before amending, "Three sets of used work robes, if you have them, dearie. The laddie is still growing after all. No use to buy him new robes and have him split their seams in six months. He's also very hard on robes, always mucking them up."

  


The clerk's face fell a bit. Well, her commission had just dropped off to almost nothing.

  


Severus rolled his eyes yet again. He never mucked his robes up. He was always very fastidious. The only places they got mucky were along the bottom hem where the surplus of robe dragged the floor because it was too big for him. Pincilla was just looking for an excuse to get him used robes. He remained stoic. Well, he supposed it had been too much to hope that he'd actually be getting _new_ robes.

  


The clerk pleasantly took Severus by the arm while he was moaning and groaning about his fate silently to himself and by the time he'd finished she was standing him up on a short stool next to another young man who had his arms spread wide as another clerk busied herself pinning fabric on him. The other boy had dark brown hair that fell into his eyes and looked bored out of his skull with all the pinning and flurrying about him. When he noticed Severus being settled onto the stool next to him he grinned.

  


"First year for Hogwarts too? I'm Sirius Black," the other boy's grin turned impish and he brought his arms back to his sides purposefully upsetting several pins of fabric and throwing the witch attending him into a tizzy. He offered his hand over to Severus good-naturedly.

  


Severus raised one eyebrow at the offered hand. His attendant hadn't started pinning him yet so he was free to accept the gesture although he knew that if he did so he'd be forced introduce himself and thus risk sounding terribly silly. He hesitated for a moment, and then another, and then the other boy's brow clouded and he withdrew his hand.

  


"Well, if that's the way you're going to be about it, then . . ."

  


Severus crossed his arms and scowled back. Just who did this fellow think he was, getting cross at him? He would have shaken hands if the prat hadn't jerked his own back. He was just getting to it in his own time. There was no need for the other boy to get nasty.

  


"That's it, Severus."

  


Oh that's just what he needed, his dear auntie to intervene.

  


"You shouldn't ever shake hands with a wizard you don't know. There's no telling what his lineage is."

  


Wonderful. Now he was certainly off to a good start with this other fellow. Trust Pincilla to make an awful situation worse. Not that he cared. He certainly didn't want to be friends with that git anyway, not after he'd so rudely withdrawn his hand. Not one bit. Humph.

  


Sirius's scowl darkened and he crossed his own arms, further upsetting the pinning, "Oh, so you're _that_ sort."

  


Severus turned his back on the other boy and stuck his hooked nose quite into the air. _That sort_ indeed. Humph. Humph. Humph. Humph.

  


He would have likely continued huffing in a very sullen manner for quite some time had not a commotion from the direction of the dressing rooms distracted him. He was just about to turn and see the source of the ruckus when he was bowled off the stool by a sobbing shrieking ball of fury that flailed and wriggled. He let out a rather bloodcurdling shriek himself as he was thrown off the stool and into a basket of soiled student robes and would have likely fought the thing that had tackled him had someone not managed to pull it off of him rather quickly.

  


That someone turned out to be Sirius Black and the wailing thrashing thing turned out to be a rather short girl with a flurry of straight blonde hair. She was wearing a black work robe that was quite a bit too long for her and still flailing and crying in a deplorable manner. Severus noticed with some derision that while everyone seemed to be fawning over the hysterical girl, no one bothered to help him out of the basket.

  


He managed to extricate himself from the rather embarrassing position, although the basket did get momentarily stuck on his end, thankfully everyone's attention still seemed to be on the girl who was sobbing something about a ghost.

  


"Oh!" the plump witch in mauve seemed quite shocked, "Are you Muggle born, dearie? It completely slipped my mind to warn you about Captain Jack."

  


The girl, who had now been at least marginally calmed (although she was still clinging to Sirius for dear life), sniffled and then nodded, "I'm Hypolyta Crescent. It's my first time in Diagon Alley. Who's Captain Jack?"

  


"Why, Captain Jack is our resident ghost. He died in a terrible sewing accident in the fourteenth century and has been living at the store ever since. I always warn all the children when they go into the dressing rooms. Having him pop up beside you can be quite unsettling. I don't know how such a thing slipped my mind."

  


The clerk glanced around the store and was relieved to see that the only adult in sight was the outrageous witch in the striped Technicolor fringe. Aaaah, disaster averted. No bad press for Madam Malkin's.

  


"Well, no harm done," she smiled disarmingly as she finally manage to pry Hypolyta from Sirius. Hypolyta, having been reassured that the ghost was nothing out of the ordinary, charged right back in to see the ghost again, apparently to have a chat with him.

  


Severus plunged his hands deep into the pockets of his robe. If these were the people he was going to Hogwarts with, then there'd be no chance of him finding intelligent conversation there.

  


*

  


  


  


  



	2. The Pettigrew Effect

Days of Wands and Roses

  


02 -- The Pettigrew Effect

  


By Gabi (pinkfluffynet@yahoo.com)

  


Lily Evans took a deep breath and tried to steel her nerves. She was standing, clad in a pleasant yellow slicker and knee high black rubbers near the door to what appeared to be the premier bookshop on this bizarre alley. She wrung her hands which were slightly damp not thanks to the torrential rain but rather due to her own nervousness.

  


Not for the first time that morning she desperately wished her parents had come with her. Of course, Petunia had to take this particular morning on the underground to feel "terribly ill" and faint right on their mother. Lily had not been impressed, nor had she been fooled. She had put up with Petunia's attempts to bring attention to herself for long enough to know when the great fibber was shamming. Still, she couldn't blame her parents for wanting to take Petunia home. This might actually be the one time she was telling the truth about the "awful pain in her side" and she knew her parents would never risk the possibility that their eldest daughter was really seriously ill.

  


Despite the fact that this was a very important day for Lily, her parents had immediately switched trains and headed home, supporting the less than subtle Petunia "who was still so weak she could barely walk" between the two of them. Before going her father had ruffled her hair affectionately and called her his grown up girl and given her an envelope of money to put in her purse. She was not particularly surprised that she was being sent off to Diagon Alley on her own. She often shouldered a great deal of the responsibility around the house since Petunia generally couldn't be bothered with such things.

  


Still, she had never been this far away from home before on her own. Not that she was worried about getting home. She had studied the line changes she would have to make all the way to the train station before leaving the underground and she already had her ticket home on the four o'clock train home from King's Cross.

  


Lily was perfectly confident in her abilities to handle the _mundane_.

  


The problem was, nothing that had happened to her since stepping through the doors of the run down establishment that lauded itself as "The Leaky Cauldron" had been even remotely mundane. The pouring rain didn't help either, but at least she had come prepared. Half the people she saw in the alley (which, due to the weather numbered at an impressive four) didn't have any protection from the elements and thanks to their lack of preparedness were getting drenched to the bone.

  


Thankfully it hadn't been a very far walk to the book shop from the back alley behind the Leaky Cauldron and her coat and hat had done a fair enough job keeping her dry. The pudgy gentleman behind the bar at the Leaky Cauldron had been kind enough to take her out to the brick wall and show her how to spell it open in the heavy rain, although he'd had a curious sort of umbrella without a shaft that had just sort of floated over his head wherever he went outside. Lily had been so distracted and round-eyed at the umbrella that he'd had to gently explain to her twice that she'd be able to open it for herself once she picked up a wand from Ollivander's. She didn't have a clue what he was talking about but assumed that it was probably a shop along the alley. Wand was near the top of her list of supplies so she was sure she'd likely end up at "Ollivander's" at some point before four o'clock.

  


Her first steps into the alley as the brick wall rearranged itself behind her were slow, almost reverent, as she drank in the scene before her. Lily Evans had never been in a place like this in her whole life, and her mouth rounded with wonder even as her eyes widened with surprise as she noticed that above the nearest shop door (whose window paint proudly claimed it was Quality Quidditch Supplies – whatever that meant) tiny carved figures on tiny carved broomsticks appeared to be playing some sort of game. The most marvelous thing about these little wonders (other than that they seemed to be moving on their own) was that they were _flying_. 

  


She had shuffled up to the little figures (who were thankfully under a sheltering overhang to protect them from the weather) and was standing to one side of the door, regarding them with a detached sort of awe when the door suddenly rattled and a woman and a boy came out of the shop, the boy encumbered by all number of strangely shaped packages.

  


The woman was tall, slim, and angular. She had luminous gray eyes that were a smidgen too large for her face, giving her a wide, extremely surprised look. She was wearing long dark robes trimmed in a deep shade of rose. The boy beside her had thick dark hair that fell into his face, although it was carefully parted on the side. He was wearing robes of a shocking yellow that made Lily almost want to turn away her eyes. He seemed to be talking to his mother in an amiable enough fashion – about Quidditch. Well now Lily at least knew how to pronounce the word. Her curiosity piqued, she screwed up the courage to politely as him a question about the ornaments above the door who were still so furiously going at it.

  


"Excuse me, I don't mean to bother you, but could you please tell me what they're doing?" she asked, a small finger pointed up at the multicolored men on twig broomsticks.

  


Normally, she wouldn't have dreamed of asking some stranger on the street about little flying men. She knew very well that it wasn't wise to talk to strangers, certainly not to strangers who were likely carrying wands. Still, she was desperately curious about the little figures and the boy sounded so pleasant . . .

  


He turned to her slowly, as if really and truly surprised to see her standing there, although she was sure he'd met her gaze just a moment ago. No, he wasn't surprised that she was standing there in her friendly yellow slicker and hat, he was apparently quite shocked that she was talking to him.

  


In a moment, the shock had passed, replaced by a single raised eyebrow and an incredulous expression.

  


"You don't know?" he drawled lazily, eyeing her from over the top of his bundles. His tone was still pleasant enough, although she got the feeling that it was masking amused condescension, "Why, they're playing Quidditch."

  


"Quidditch?" she repeated, looking up at the figures and trying to ignore his assumed superiority, "That's Quidditch?"

  


"Indeed," his reply was cloyingly patronizing.

  


Well, what did he expect? This was her first foray into the wizarding community. He couldn't expect her to know everything already. She was trying to remedy her lack of information on the subject and the best way she knew how to do so was ask someone knowledgeable. It became difficult when that person answered only with "indeed."

  


The woman had moved to stand at the edge of the shop's awning. She glanced over her shoulder at the boy and gave him a somewhat displeased look.

  


"Antony, behave yourself. She's obviously Muggleborn. There's no need to lord it over her."

  


The boy was suddenly a model of sweet tranquility. He nodded once, obediently saying, "Yes, mama." But the look he gave Lily was plain enough in its message that his real opinion of her hadn't changed a bit.

  


His mother, facing away from the two of them, didn't catch his parting smirk as she called for him to follow her. When they stepped out from under the awning they were incased in what looked to be a silvery glass bubble that the rain harmlessly bounced off of. Lily's mouth fell slightly open at this, but thankfully the boy was no longer looking at her.

  


She crossed her arms. How obnoxious and how terribly immature, being so high and mighty just because she didn't know what some kind of wizard board game was. After being huffy for a few minutes at the boy to make herself feel better, she had put her hands in her pockets and marched resolutely down the street until she'd come to the next overhang – the one in front of Flourish and Blott's.

  


That had been nearly ten minutes ago. She'd been standing outside the shop, debating whether or not to go in since then. Her encounter with the boy had made her more self-conscious than she was willing to admit. She really didn't know anything about the wizarding world other than what was detailed in her acceptance letter. She really wished her father was here. He'd have given that boy his Very Disappointed look and he would have stopped teasing her immediately. Goodness knows it always worked on her.

  


She sighed. There was no use being a coward about it. She was going to have to go in a buy books eventually or otherwise go home and have her father give her the very look she wished he'd been around to bestow on Antony. 

  


She turned to give the street one last wistful look before going into the shop and in doing so she almost stumbled into a boy wearing an identical yellow slicker and rain hat.

  


All she could think of to say was, "Hullo."

  


Pleasantly, he didn't seem at all disturbed by the fact that she had almost walked into her. He smiled shyly and returned, "Hullo. My name's Peter. Are you going into the book shop too?"

  


She nodded, happy to find someone her age that was friendly, "Yes. I'm Lily," she noticed that he was carrying a cauldron in both arms that looked a little too large for him and looked around for some adult. When she saw none, she leaned over and grabbed one of the handles of the cauldron to help him out. He also looked immensely relieved that he'd found a friendly person.

  


"Are you here by yourself as well?" she asked curiously, noting that the cauldron was actually considerably lighter than it looked. Apparently the reason Peter was having difficulty holding the thing was that simply too large for someone to hold comfortably. She fleetingly hoped that this wasn't the fabled size two cauldron.

  


He shook his head, "No, my mum's here with me. I'm to meet her in this shop. Is this your first year too?"

  


She nodded, "Yes. I've never been in Diagon Alley before. It's so . . . well . . . magical." she laughed, unable to think of a better way to describe this wonderfully queer place.

  


He laughed as well and then looked down at his feet and began to speak very rapidly, "Are you here by yourself? Cause if you are I'm sure my mum wouldn't mind at all if you wanted to come with us. I mean, I'd really like it if you came with us. You're the first classmate I've met. Of course, you don't have to come with us, if you don't want to . . . "

  


Lily giggled and had raised her free hand to reassure him that she'd love to go shopping with him when a blur of red and black skidded to a stop right behind Peter, bumping into him and knocking him almost into the cauldron he was carrying. Lily managed to shift her weight under the cauldron and catch most of Peter's on the rim, keeping him from tumbling head first into her.

  


Before either of them could react, a deafening screech was heard coming from down the street, "JAMES FINNEAUS POTTER! You get back here this instant! I know I saw you heading down Knockturn Alley!"

  


The blur, who turned out to be a young man with tousled black hair and thick black square rimmed glasses noticed that he'd bumped into Peter and grabbed him by the collar, attempting to set him right. Unfortunately, Lily had already thrown her weight into putting him back into balance and this extra force just sent Peter tumbling backward into James. Lily did not have the presence of mind to let go of the other handle of the cauldron and was pulled over on top of them, right into the biggest mud hole in the near vicinity.

  


Lily landed with a hearty flump on Peter's chest, and he let out an unhealthy squeak that sounded rather like a kitten that someone has sat on. Thankfully, their slickers had kept them fairly clean. The same could not be seen for the boy that Lily could only assume to be James Potter. He had landed in the thickest part of the sludge, his crimson robes doing little to turn the sickly grey water and much to Lily's surprise, his head was in the large cauldron – along with a great deal of mud, as far as she could see.

  


The deafening howl from down the street could be heard again, "You stay right there, James! I'm going to give you a hiding like you've never had in your life! Shame on you, scaring me like that!"

  


Lily sat up and looked in the direction that the voice was coming from to see a cranky looking little old woman in powder blue robes approaching at an alarming rate. How that woman managed to produce those deafening sounds, she could not even begin to speculate.

  


At the sound of the second howl, James Potter sat straight up, cauldron still rattling around on his head. The sight was so comical that Lily couldn't help but giggle, despite the fact that the perpetrator of the act was the self-same one responsible for she and Peter currently getting a mud treatment.

  


At the sound of Lily's giggle, James slung the cauldron off his head and cast a sidelong glance at them. Even Peter giggled this time for much of James's hair had mud in it and was sticking straight up. He cast them an assured "this always happens to me, don't worry" look and then seeing how fast the old lady was approaching hopped to his feet in one gangly bound.

  


He offered the cauldron back at Peter solemnly as he said, "Sorry about that and thank you very much for letting me use that cauldron. It's the best my hair's looked all day."

  


He waggled his eyebrows in a comical fashion and then dashed off in the other direction before either of them could say a word in response. The old lady arrived spare seconds later, but thankfully she didn't stop to question them, only quickened her pace in an attempt to catch the lad who was on the lamb. Lily had never seen an old woman move like that before in her life. She could very well be a decathlete with very little effort. Lily shook her head slightly, as if clearing away cobwebs that might have gathered during her stay in the mud. This place just kept getting stranger and stranger.

  


Shrugging, she finally got out of the mud puddle and offered Peter a hand up. He was still looking off in the direction that James had fled to with wide eyes. 

  


"Well, I suppose there's no harm done," she said, then thought better of it, "To us at least. He looked a little worse for wear."

  


He snapped out of his vacant stare almost immediately and then chuckled, "Yes. I know mum would be furious at me if I ever got myself in a state like that," he thought for a second and then added, "I do hope he gets away."

  


Lily nodded, if only because she wouldn't wish that woman's screeching on anyone living, "And speaking of your mum, I'd love to do my shopping with you."

  


Peter brightened immediately, and picking the cauldron up by one handle, turned to the door, "Shall we go then?"

  


"Before some other random wizard whizzes by and pushes us in the mud again?" she asked, giggling, "Yes, let's do."

  


The interior of the shop was like nothing that Lily had ever seen. Books in a full myriad of colors assaulted her eyes, and as she looked down briefly, she noticed that one book with four spindly feet was attempting to assault her physically. Thankfully, it did not have teeth so all it managed to do was num on her ineffectually. Still, the surprise of having a book attempt to devour her was a novel experience and she could not contain a distressed squeak. 

  


A young man with shoulder length russet hair who was standing and shelving books on the top step of a ladder that was not attached to anything in particular looked down when he heard her squeak and offered some sage advice.

  


"Go ahead and kick him. That'll teach him to leave you alone."

  


Lily looked down at the book doubtfully. She knew she'd feel terrible if she kicked something that small and it was a _book_. She felt that violence on a book of any kind had to be some kind of censorship and that did not sit well with her. Still, the book _was_ numming on her leg . . .

  


She twitched her leg ineffectually in an attempt to make the book loose interest but all that did was make it jump and start to snap at her. The sight of a book jumping to snap at her face (whether it had teeth or not) was certainly enough to startle her and she took an uncertain step backward, right into someone.

It was James Potter, and although the rain had managed to wash a great deal of the mud off of him, there was still a great clump of it in his hair that made it stick up at a truly strange angle.

  


"Not like that," he corrected her, and for a moment she had no idea what he could be talking about. Then she was reminded of the snapping book in her face, "You have to do it with more feeling or you'll never get the point across.

  


She turned to look at him just as he tensed, and before she could move out of the way his foot came flying by her head and the book went sailing across the store to land against something that made a heavy thudding sound.

  


"OUCH!"

  


James's eyes widened slightly, but then his grin quirked back and he patted Lily on the shoulder, "And now, if you don't mind I have an important place I have to be. Right now."

  


And he was gone again, out the door and down the street before the door chime could even finish ringing. Lily turned to watch him go, tossing her hands up helplessly. Peter blinked at Lily and she shrugged again. What a truly bizarre young man. She turned back to face the interior of the shop to find herself facing a boy in an oversized navy blue tent of a smock who was holding the twitching book that had tried so recently to "make friends" with her by the leg so that it dangled and spasmed. Seeing her, it snapped again excitedly.

  


The young man facing them had a very sour look on his face and was nursing a bump on the back of his head. He immediately attacked Peter, shoving the book dangerously close to his face.

  


"Did you think that was funny?" he fumed and for a moment Lily thought he was going to actually stamp his foot and throw a tantrum. Instead he jerked the book back and dropped it on the floor sullenly.

  


"It wasn't him," Lily defended immediately, as she didn't think Peter was up to it, shying slightly behind his large cauldron. She didn't blame him. This fellow was quite intimidating even if the blue tent he was wearing sort of ruined the effect.

  


"The who was it, Father Christmas?" he sulked, crossing his arms. 

  


"No, it was James Potter," she said matter-of-factly, sounding much braver than she actually felt. What if this sinister ghoul-like fellow cast some awful curse on her? How on earth was she going to explain that to her father?

  


Thankfully she was saved by a very unlikely source. Before the sullen young man had another chance to retort a large woman in lavender and frighteningly lime green robes appeared behind him and collared him, dragging him off and berating him at the same time, "Severus, where did you disappear to? I need you to carry your school books. They weigh half a ton and I'm far too fragile to move them. Come along and be a god lad."

  


The last look from the boy that Lily caught as he was dragged around the corner was of pure and total horror.

  


Lily slumped against the door frame relieved. Well that was one more crisis dealt with. She'd had three since arriving in the alley less than a half hour ago. She didn't even want to begin to think about how many she'd have before four o'clock.

  


No, she was being silly. She'd had more than her share of crises that day. The rest of it would go swimmingly, she reassured herself.

  


After all, what could possibly go wrong?

  


Very much.

  


And it did.

  


*

  


  


  


  


  


  



End file.
